


Ransom

by MissSlothy



Series: Whumptober 2019 [3]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Danny "Danno" Williams, Hostage Situations, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Peril, Pre-Slash, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/pseuds/MissSlothy
Summary: Standalone stories written as part of the #Whumptober2019 challenge hosted on Tumblr.  The stories can be emotional or physical whump.The prompt for Day 27 was 'Ransom'.   I've also managed to sneak in Day 5 - 'Gunpoint'.When a 7-Eleven gets held up, Danny and the team are called to help.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s almost midnight in Waikiki. The stores are closed but the sidewalks are still busy. Tourists have spilled out of the restaurants and bars onto the sidewalks. Neon advertising signs add colour and sparkle. There’s a party atmosphere. The sound of laughter carries in the warm night air.

Danny steers the Camaro through the crowds. The blue lights are flashing in the front grill of the car but he’s still had to slow to a crawl. Biting back a curse he hits the siren. People scatter. Some of them look back, apologetically. Others wave – and not in a friendly way.

Ignoring them, he speeds up. He’s responding to a call from Lou. There’s been a shoot-out in a convenience store. Lou hadn’t been clear on why Five-O had been called but the tone of his voice had said is all. Get here _now._

He glances down at his cell phone. His sense of unease grows. There’d been something about Lou’s voice that had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It crosses his mind to call Steve. He shakes his head, dismisses the thought. Steve’s been on reserve duty for two weeks. He’s back on the islands, at Pearl Harbour and he’s due back at work tomorrow. But he’d been talking about going for beers tonight with an old SEAL buddy. They’d planned to start early. By now it’ll be a miracle if Steve can remember his own name.

The crowd is thinning as Danny heads out of town. He speeds up. The streets outside morph into a blur. He’s in a residential area between the military base at Pearl and the airport. It’s not an area he’s familiar with but he finds the place easily, guided by an eerie blue glow over the top of the houses that he instantly recognises - flashing blue lights from police cruisers.

Danny parks up behind them and gets out. The cruisers are parked at each end of the street, blocking access. HPD officers are crouched behind the cars, their weapons drawn. On one side of the road there are a row of stores. All of them are in darkness, apart from the 7-Eleven store, at the end of the row. 

Chewing at his bottom-lip, he weighs up the scene. His heartrate’s rising and it’s not just because of what he’s looking at. Robbery isn’t usually within Five-0’s jurisdiction. They’ve been called for another reason. Whatever that reason is, it’s not going to be good.

Popping the trunk of the car, he’s pulling out his tac vest when Lou appears. “What have we got?” he asks, his voice muffled as he pulls the vest over his head.

“Steve’s in there.”

Danny stills, the vest half-way over his head. His brain blanks out for a moment, then he reminds himself to breathe. Hands suddenly clumsy, he wrestles the vest down into position. “You sure?” he asks, quietly. It’s a stupid question. He knows Lou will have checked. But Steve’s not supposed to _be _here. He’s supposed to be propped up against a bar somewhere, giggling at a Navy memory that seems a lot more fun viewed through an alcoholic-fuelled haze. 

Lou’s worried expression speaks volumes. “We’ve got a witness and identification.”

“Identification?” Panic ramps Danny’s heartrate up to a dangerous level. “His Five-0 badge?”

“Navy ID.”

_Thank god. Thank god. _Danny shakes his head. None of that makes no sense. “What would he be doing in a 7-Eleven at…” He trails off. Rubbing his hand over his hair, he starts again, at the beginning. “What happened?”

“As far as we can tell, it’s a robbery gone wrong,” Lou explains, pausing long enough for Danny to lock up the Camaro before leading him through the parked police cars. “We’ve got five perps in total and they’re armed. There was one employee and five customers inside. The employee’s dead. They shot him after they took the money. One of the perps is dead too, another one is injured.” Lou looks back over at his shoulder at Danny. “Couple of the customers put a fight up.”

Danny swallows hard against the lump of dread in his throat. Fighting leads to injuries. “Steve?”

“Yup. You said he was out with a buddy tonight?” Lou slows but he’s not waiting for an answer, they’ve arrived at their destination: an ambulance. The back doors are open, the EMTs are attending to a young woman who’s sitting on a stretcher. She has a few minor scratches but it’s clear she’s traumatised. She’s crying, loud, chest-heaving sobs. “This is Kemi,” Lou explains, his voice gentle as he makes the introductions. “She was in the store when the shooting started.”

Danny nods, reminds himself to take this interview slowly. It’s difficult though. The initial shock is wearing off and adrenaline is kicking in. Looking down, he realises his hand is wrapped around his gun. Slowly, deliberately, he moves his hand to his belt. “I’m sorry to ask you questions,” he starts, “but we need to know what happened.”

Kemi nods. She takes a deep breath, rubs her nose on her sleeve. “We went for milk and juice,” she says, the words catching around another sob. 

“Kemi was with her friends,” Lou adds quietly, before Danny can ask. “They’re still in there.”

“Jacqui’s 30 weeks pregnant,” Kemi continues, wrapping her arms across her body. “Julie’s her sister. They’re staying over. I don’t usually have that stuff so…”

_So you went to the store,_ Danny finishes silently as Kemi trails off, her face crumbled with misery. 

“There were two other guys in there,” she adds, after a pause. “They were drunk, you know? Not loud…just…they were laughing, having fun. We went for the same chiller cabinet. One of them got the milk for Jacqui, it was right at the back, she couldn’t reach it with her bump and then…”

“…the gunmen burst in,” Lou finishes, when she starts crying again.

“Can you give us a few minutes?,” one of the EMTs cuts in as Kemi’s sobs get louder, her body shaking with shock and grief.

Danny reluctantly lets himself be led away by Lou. He feels sorry for Kemi and he’s worried about her friends. But there’s still so much he needs to know. Once they’re a safe distance away from the ambulance he digs his heels in, coming to halt. Glancing back at the 7-Eleven, he wishes he could see through brick walls. “Steve,” he grinds out, meeting Lou’s eyes. “Did she say how bad is it?”

Lou pulls him closer, sympathy written across his face. “Steve’s got a head injury. Kemi thinks he was unconscious for a short-while but he was awake when she last saw him.”

Danny closes his eyes. Bad idea, he thinks as relief makes him go light-hearted. It says something about his life as Steve’s partner, he thinks, when a head-injury feels like a lucky break. When he opens his eyes though, his heart sinks again at the sorrow in Lou’s eyes.

“Steve’s buddy was shot.” Lou glances away and back again. “Kemi thinks he was alive but he was bleeding bad.”

Danny steps away, rubbing his hands over his face. _Damn it. _Turning back, he forces himself to focus. “Okay. How did Kemi get out of there?”

Lou shakes his head. “She didn’t,” he says, tiredly. “They let her out. An alarm was triggered. The first HPD unit got here before they could run for it.”

Danny stares at him. His brain is swirling with so many questions he doesn’t know where to start. “They still could have made a run for it.”

“Who knows what they’re thinking,” Lou says, his tone making it clear he’s equally confused. “Instead of running for it they tied everyone up and went through their IDs. Then they just…let her go.”

“Hostages.” Danny chews that over, pacing as he thinks. “She was the least valuable hostage so they sent her out as the messenger.”

“Yeah.” Lou’s staring at the store, his eyebrows drawn together. “But what’s the use of a messenger with no message?”

“Yeah,” Danny breathes, stepping up to stand beside Lou. “Yeah. So what are we missing?” He sighs, not expecting an answer. Glancing around at the police cars around him, he works out their options. They are going to need some specialist help. And fast. “SWAT on the way?”

Lou’s expression turns even grimmer. “They’re gonna be a couple of hours, maybe longer—”

_“Lou—”_

“There’s that big operation over on Maui tonight. The Chinese money-laundering ring, remember? They’ll have to fly them back over.”

Danny bites back the urge to yell with frustration. He’s been standing in for Steve while he’s been away; the Governor’s been keeping him updated on the operation Lou’s talking about. It’s the culmination of months of work by the DEA and HPD but the timing sucks. “Fine. Fine,” he grounds out, his hands on his hips curling into fists. “We need to check the building out and—”

“Junior and Tani are on it,” Lou cuts in, raising a hand for silence as Danny opens his mouth again. “Duke’s on the telephone to the 7-Eleven, trying to get the perps to pick up. Adam’s back at HQ checking out the CCTV, trying to find out who these guys are, get us a way in.”

Danny bobs his head in acknowledgement. It says something about his state of mind, he thinks, that he’s forgotten to ask after the rest of the team. The irony is that they have a direct line into the store: Steve’s phone. The trouble is they can’t risk using it. “Kemi’s friends. They got their phones with them? No, of course not,” he continues, gesturing with his hands as he reads Lou’s face. “That would be just too easy, huh?”

Movement out of the corner of his eye catches his attention. Junior and Tani are weaving their way through the crowd. “Tell me you got some good news,” he says as they join him.

The look Junior flashes him is full of regret. “There’s one window on the side of the building,” he reports, his eyes flicking between Danny and Lou. “It’s above head height. If I can get high enough I can take the shot but they gotta be standing right underneath it.”

“Backdoor’s barricaded,” Tani takes over, her words short and sharp. “No way in. Or out. There’s an exit on the roof. That would be suicide. They’ve got nowhere to go.”

“I could breach the front door,” Junior buts in, animated and heated. “I can distract the perps long enough for the rest of you to come in behind me and —”

“No.”

It’s Tani who’s spoken but it’s Lou who answers. “Nobody’s breaching anything. We’re doing this by the book. We get them talking, find out what they want. They’re holding hostages at gunpoint—”

“The _Commander’s_ in there-“

“We know that, Junes.” Danny winces inwardly at his sharp tone. Lou’s right but that doesn’t make the knowledge any easier to live with. Swallowing hard, he tells himself to calm the _fuck_ down. “We’re gonna get him out of there.” 

“Detective Williams?”

Danny spins round. Duke’s standing behind him, a phone in his hand.

“They answered,” Duke explains, simply. “They want to talk.”

Danny reaches out his hand. “I’ll take it—”

“No.” Confusingly, Duke pulls the phone away. “Not on the phone. They want someone to go in there and talk to them.”

H50H50H50H50

“I’ll go,” Junior’s saying even before Duke’s finished talking.

Danny stops him with a raised hand. Junior looks like he’s going to explode. Letting him in there would be a big mistake. “I’ll go.”

Lou shakes his head. “I know you’re worried about him but if they get even a hint you know Steve—”

Danny skips back out of reach Lou tries to stop him. He starts stripping off his tac vest. “We’re running blind, Lou. We need information. I can get that by going in there.”

“SWAT will be here soon.”

“Not soon enough.” Danny smiles regretfully at his friend as he passes his vest, badge, wallet and gun over. “Look after these for me. If I’m not out in twenty minutes come and get me.”

“Ten,” Lou shoots back, his voice gruff.

Danny cocks his head, pretends to consider it. They haven’t got time for this but he knows Lou’s as worried about Steve as he is. “Fifteen,” he offers, already turning towards the store. 

He’s stopped for a moment when Lou’s huge hand squeezes his shoulder. Then Lou’s moving too, rapping out instructions: “Junes. I need you to have eyes on that side window. Tani, you’ve got the front door. Duke, tell your men Danny’s going in. We need to make this count people…”

Danny tunes out Lou as he walks towards the front of the police line. His body is thrumming with adrenaline. Sweat is running down his spine. His heart is thumping loudly in his ears. He feels exposed without his vest and gun. _This is a stupid idea, _a voice in his head is yelling at him. It sounds suspiciously like Steve. 

Steve.

Images flash across his mind of what might be happening in the store right now. Danny slams down on them, hard. As difficult as this is he needs to stay calm.

“Detective?”

One of the EMTs has appeared beside him. She’s carrying a small first-aid kit. “It’s not much,” she offers with a grimace, “but I hear you might need it.”

Danny takes it, looping the strap over his shoulder. He acknowledges the gift with a dip of his chin. Suddenly everything seems even more real. Too real.

“Okay,” Lou says, suddenly re-materialising out of the blue-tinged darkness, “we’re good to go. Fifteen minutes,” he adds, tapping his watch with his forefinger. He meets Danny’s eyes. ”Fif-teen.”

Danny checks his watch. “Copy that.” In a different situation he knows he’d be analysing his use of military terminology. Right now though, all he wants is to see Steve. He gestures over to Duke. “Tell them I’m coming in.”


	2. Chapter 2

Walking across the parking lot to the store only takes a minute. To Danny it feels much longer. He gains some comfort from knowing Junior and Tani have their sights on him – literally – but he’s very aware that as soon as he steps through that door he’ll be on his own.

_No you won’t be. Steve will be in there too._

Danny tucks the idea away. Steve might not be able to help him.

Luckily he doesn’t get time to examine that depressing thought. As soon as the door closes behind him, he’s slammed face-first into a wall. Hands pat him down. They are not gentle. The first-aid kit is ripped from his shoulder. Eventually he’s pushed around so his back against the wall. Hands raised, he does as he’s told.

Danny’s first view of the inside of the 7-Eleven isn’t encouraging. Horrifying, he thinks vaguely. There’s a man slumped over the counter. He’s not moving, the front of his white shirt is covered in blood. The employee, he realises, his heart going out to the young man, He can’t be more than twenty years old.

On the floor, in front of the counter, is another body. Asian. Around thirty years old. Dressed in a black hoodie and jogging pants. One of the perps. There’s no sign of a gunshot wound. His head is bent at a strange angle, his shoulder length black hair splayed on the floor behind him.

His neck is broken. Danny files that information away. He’s got a good idea who might have done that. 

“Put your hands down.”

Danny does as he’s told. Interlocking his hands, he keeps them at his front, aware he can’t make any sudden moves. He has a habit of gesturing when he’s aggravated. And he’s seriously aggravated right now. 

Moving slowly, he looks around. The guy who patted him down is still standing next to him. Dressed from top to toe in black, he’s wearing a mask and gloves. The clothes are skin-tight: it’s obvious he works out. A sliver of bare skin between his cuff and gloves suggests his Asian too.

_There are five perps,_ he reminds himself. Which means there are still three other men with guns in here somewhere. The 7-Eleven isn't very large but the front end is packed with aisles of food. Without standing on tip-toe he can’t see over the top. There’s an alarm going off behind the front counter. Apart from that all he can hear is the loud buzz of the chiller cabinets and the noise from outside.

_Where’s everyone else? Where’s Steve?_

Suddenly there are footsteps, the squeak of rubber-soled sneakers against a polished floor. When the man standing beside him tenses, Danny does too. The sound is coming from the furthest corner of the store. Danny tracks it, his eyes narrowing as a man appears from behind the shelving. 

This guy is the boss. Danny has no doubts about that. It’s just not his confident stature, the elaborate swirls of ink that cover his forearms or the challenge in his eyes as he watches Danny. It’s the fact that he’s not wearing a mask or gloves. This is a man who _wants_ to be noticed. 

_Fuck. They’re not amateurs._

Danny quashes the errant thought, schooling his expression to calm. They’d assumed this was a robbery gone bad but this guy is something else. He can feel it in his gut. 

They stare at each other. Danny forces himself not to fidget. Closer inspection reveals the guy in charge has a large bruise forming under his chin. There’s a cut under his eye that’s making his squint slightly. His heart rate surges, triumphantly. It looks like Steve or Gary managed to get a few hits in. Hopefully by the time this is finished he’ll get a few hits in too.

“Danny Williams, HPD,” he says loudly, hoping his voice will carry to wherever the hostages are. “You got a name you’d like me to use?”

Boss perp tilts him head, studying him. “Jorge,” he says after a pause.

Danny swallows a snort. That’s _so_ not Boss perp’s real name. “Great,” he says, smiling in a way which he hopes is non-threatening but suspects is the opposite. “So Jorge, you wanted to talk?”

Jorge shrugs, casually. “Sure.”

Danny feels the knot of tension in his stomach grow. This whole setup is _wrong_. “Okay,” he continues after a moment, as he realises Jorge is waiting for him to make the next move, “can I see the hostages?” 

Jorge looks at his watch. Then he shrugs again. Danny’s starting to hate that shrug. And the fact he can’t read Jorge is worrying him, a hell of a lot. For the moment though he’s going to have to go with it because Jorge’s leading him to the back of the store – and hopefully towards Steve.

Danny’s prayers are answered as they get to the back of the store – kind of. The hostages are sitting there, their backs to the chiller cabinets. Kemi’s friends are huddled in one corner, with one of the perps standing over them. Steve’s been tied up with rope around his wrists and ankles – and the other perp is holding a gun to head. Danny’s stomach roils at the blood down the side of his head and the front of his tee-shirt. And Gary…shit, he looks bad. The left-hand shoulder of his shirt is blood-soaked and it’s spread onto the floor.

Training kicks in. Danny clicks his fingers to get Jorge’s attention. “First aid kit,” he raps out. For a second he thinks he’s pushed too hard – Jorge looks like he’s sucked a lemon – then suddenly the bag’s thrown down beside him. Dropping to his knees, he unzips it.

He can’t help himself: his eyes drift towards Steve. When their eyes meet concern jolts through him. Steve’s not focusing properly, almost going cross-eyed as he struggles to focus. Kemi said he was drunk but that’s not the reason for his confusion. As he watches Steve blinks slowly, his long eyelashes resting for a second on his cheeks. Then he opens his eyes again and recognition dawns on his face.

_No Steve. No. _“Danny Williams,” Danny jumps in to introduce himself as Steve’s lips twitch upwards. “What’s your name?”

Steve smile dies. He blinks rapidly, wincing as he shifts against the ropes holding him. “Steve,” he says, squinting as he tips his head back to look at the perp who’s holding a gun to his head. “My name’s Steve…McGarrett.”

Danny nods. He desperately wants to touch Steve, to reassure him, to take away the fear he can see in Steve’s eyes every time he looks over at Gary. Instead he keeps his hands busy by unpacking the first-aid kit. “This your buddy?”

“Yeah,” Steve says so quietly that Danny can barely hear him. “Gary. These bastards shot him.” Suddenly there’s a spark in his eyes. “The bullet’s still in there. I tried to help Danny but—”

Steve’s cut off as the perp strikes the side of his head with the butt of his gun. With a pained groan he slides to the floor.

“Hey! Hey!” Danny’s on his feet before he realises it, reaching out for the gun as the perp raises it to deliver another blow. He’s seeing red, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Steve’s trying to curl away from the blow but his tied hands and feet are hampering him. “Get the hell off of him—"

The feeling of cold metal on the back of his neck stops him dead. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Danny stutters. Steve’s still curled over but he’s pushing himself upright. _Concentrate _he tells himself, keeping his hands away from his body. He doesn’t trust himself right now. “I don’t know what your plan is to get out of here, okay. But if you start killing your hostages you won’t be going anywhere except the morgue.”

There’s no answer but the gun is removed from the back of his neck. Cautiously, he strains to see behind him. Jorge isn’t holding the gun. But he’s standing right behind the man who is.

Jorge stares back at him. A shiver slides down Danny’s spine. Vaguely he’s aware of Steve shifting, getting ready to make a move.

_No, babe. No._

“Let him work.”

Suddenly Danny finds himself on his hands and knees: he’s been pushed to the ground. As he rocks back on his heels he catches Steve’s gaze. Behind all the confusion there’s a spark of furious anger that’s impossible to miss. Danny shakes his head, prays that Jorge and his buddies just think his brain’s been rattled. Steve holds his gaze for a moment, his lips thinning in defiance, then he drops his chin, his eyelids drifting to half-mast.

Danny grabs the first-aid kit, starts pulling out equipment again. _Breathe, _he repeats, willing his hands to stop shaking. Steve’s not the only hostage who needs his help.

A feeling of dread creeps over him as he checks Gary’s condition. He’s holding his own but he’s lost of lot of blood. He needs to persuade Jorge to let him take the hostages out of here. But he’s got no bargaining tool, no ransom demands. As he starts putting together a fresh dressing for Gary’s wound, he turns his attention to the other hostages.

“Jacqui and Julie, right?” he says, pausing to rip off a piece of surgical tape with his teeth. They stare back at him, like startled rabbits. “Your friend Kemi, she’s okay.”

Jacqui covers her mouth with her hand. “Thank god…we thought…we thought maybe…”

Whatever they thought is lost as she drifts off, her hand dropping to cover her bump protectively. Her expression morphs from relieved to worried in a split-second.

“You okay there?” he asks as he presses the dressing onto Gary’s wound and tapes it up.

Jacqui shakes her head. “It’s nothing,” she says weakly. “It’s just a twinge—”

Julie cuts in. “She’s having contractions.”

Jacqui glares at her sister. Her sister glares back. Danny watches them with a growing sense of horror. Thirty-weeks pregnant, he reminds himself, This is fucked up. So _fucked _up.

Mind racing, he stares at the floor. Blood is pooling with milk and orange juice. There is smashed glass everywhere. It’s soaking into the knees of his trousers. It’s all over his hands. It’s on Steve’s hands too, he realises. Slowly he raises his eyes to meet Steve’s. Steve’s eyes are still half-closed, his head lolling to one side.

“They need medical help,” he announces, pushing himself to his feet. He’s talking to himself as well as Jorge. “You’ve gotta let me take them out.”

Jorge looks at his watch again. Bottom-lip curled down, he appears to be thinking.

_Too calm, _Danny thinks. They’ve taken hostages. They should be freaking out. _Wrong, wrong, wrong, _his instincts start screaming again. “Let them go,” he says gently, forcing himself to calm. “This will go much better for you if you let them go.”

Jorge laughs. “You mean it will go much better for SWAT.”

“What?”

Jorge smiles. There’s no warmth in it. “SWAT. They’re outside. You take the hostages out. They come in. Yes?”

“I’m trying to help you. You want to get out of here, right?”

You’re not trying to help us. You’re keeping us distracted until SWAT arrives.

_You’ve got no idea buddy how much I wish that was true._ “It doesn’t have to end like that—”

“We’re ready for them.” Jorge’s smile grows.

_He’s enjoying this. The bastard’s enjoying this. _“Please. Let them go. You can negotiate your way out of this.”

The shrug is back again. “Who says we want to negotiate?”

A groan of pain makes them turn round. Jacqui’s curled over, her face scrunched in pain. “She needs a doctor,” Julie begs, gripping her sister’s hand and whispering to her to hold on.

Something flickers across Jorge’s face. Then he waves dismissively at the hostages. “Take them. We don’t need them.”

Danny stares at him for a second, overwhelming relief rooting him to the spot. Then his brain kicks back in and he kneels down to untie Steve’s legs.

“Not him.”

Danny stills, his hand resting on Steve’s ankle. He can taste bile at the back of his throat. He twists to face Jorge. “You said I could take them,” he says carefully, _so_ carefully. He’s teetering on the edge, about to explode. 

Jorge grins back at him. It’s full of sharp teeth. “I’ve changed my mind. You can have two hostages.”

“That’s not what we agreed—” He stops: Steve’s gone tense under his hand. He can’t risk a glance at him. _He can’t. _But he knows what’s Steve’s trying to say to him: withdraw and regroup, Danny. Don’t antagonise him.

Clumsily – he’s shaking – Danny squeezes Steve’s ankle then turns his attention to the other hostages. It’s obvious who he’s going to take. He checks Gary’s dressing, getting ready to move him. Over in the other corner Jacqui’s crying. She doesn’t want to leave without her sister. Julie’s shushing her, saying she’ll be okay. Danny throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. She smiles back but it’s clear she’s scared.

She’s not the only one.

Jorge clicks his fingers, waving his goons forward to help move Gary. Danny steps back, his fear building as Gary doesn’t stir, despite being manhandled as he’s lifted up. Heart clenching, he finally lets himself look at Steve.

Steve’s eyes are open. The dint between his eyebrows prove he’s still having trouble focusing. But the expression on his face speaks volumes:

_Don’t worry, Danny. We’ll be alright._

Danny bites the inside of his cheek, welcoming the sharp pain. It stops him from telling Steve he’s a stupid idiot, and why the hell couldn’t he just stay at Pearl Harbour where he’d be safe. Instead he holds Steve’s gaze and nods:

_Don’t do anything stupid, babe._

It’s his last sight of Steve. A hand shoves him between his shoulder blades, keeps shoving him up the aisle, to the front door. Jacqui’s beside him. She’s stopped crying but she keeps throwing worried glances back the way they’ve come.

Danny squeezes her hand, mouths ‘_don’t worry’. _Then he’s being shoved towards Gary’s prone body, Jorge’s men indicating that they’re expecting Danny to carry him out. Danny briefly considers lifting him then settles for dragging him out. God know what it’s going to do to his injury but it’s better than dropping him.

Jorge and his men flip open the front door and dodge back before they can become targets. _Tani’s probably cursing right now_, Danny thinks. Steadying himself, he takes Gary’s weight and gets ready to move.

“There’s just one more thing,” Jorge says, glancing at his watch again. Nodding, he seems pleased with himself. “My men are hungry. They need to eat.” He looks around the store, as if seeing it for the first time. “Pizza,” he says after a pause. “Yes. We want pizza.”

H50H50H50

“How is he?”

Danny’s leaning against the rear doors of the EMTs ambulance, watching them work on Gary. He knows though that’s not who Lou is asking after. “Steve’s got a concussion,” he explains, guilt making the words stick in his throat. He shouldn’t have left him. “It’s bad. He’s taken more than one hit.” 

“But he recognised you?” 

“Yeah.” Danny rubs his hands over his hair. He grimaces when he notices they’re still covered in blood. His gaze drifts to the other ambulance parked beside them. He catches a glimpse of Kemi and Jacqui sitting inside, then the EMT is closing the doors, getting ready to leave. “Julie was okay too. Scared but she’s not injured.”

Turning away, he heads back to the police cars and the mini-operations centre Duke has set up. Lou falls in beside him, a reassuring presence.

“They’d only let me bring out two,” he confesses, his shoulders slumping as the post-adrenaline rush hits him. “I thought I’d got them all out and then—”

“Hey. Hey.” Lou clamps a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to a halt. “You probably just saved three lives.” He leans down to Danny’s eye-level. “We’re gonna get Steve and Julie out too, you hear me?”

“I know.” Danny nods. Lou’s a difficult man to disagree with when he’s worried: he exudes comfort like a giant, cuddly bear. “You’re right. We are.” 

As they reach Duke he takes a steadying breath. It’s time to get this done. 

“We need pizza,” he explains, gesturing back to the store. “Enough for everyone.”

Duke raises his eyebrows but doesn’t says anything as he disappears to send someone to the nearest late-night pizza joint. Lou looks like he’s going to comment but Danny stops him with a raised hand. He can see Tani and Junior off in the distance, jogging their way through the parked police cars. The sound of sirens cut through the air just as they arrive – it’s the ambulance leaving with Gary. Together they watch it disappear into the distance. Then Danny clears his throat and explains what happened inside the store.

“It’s like they’re waiting for something,” Danny finishes, his brain working overtime now it hasn’t got a gun pointed at it. “It was…weird.”

Lou frowns. “You said they kept mentioning SWAT?”

“Yeah.” Danny runs the conversation over in his head again. “Jorge mentioned it a lot. It’s like they want them to go in there.”

Junior snorts. “Then they’re gonna be disappointed.” His sniper’s rifle is slung across his chest. He’s holding it double-handed. He tightens his grip. “If they want a firefight I got friends who—”

“Wait.” Danny closes his eyes, trying to concentrate. Something’s been bugging him since they got out of the store. There’s an image in his mind, swimming just out of reach. Suddenly it materialises. He curses under his breath. “I need my phone.”

He has a short telephone conversation with Adam. A few minutes later his phone pings. Checking the content of the message , his heart sinks. Part of him had been hoping he was wrong. “Jorge, he’s got this ink thing going on,” he explains, tapping his forearm as he shows the team the first photo Adam’s sent. “It looked familiar. Adam just checked the records of the gang the DEA are running their operation on tonight.” He swipes to the next picture. “This is the gang leader.”

Tani whistles under her breath. “Same ink. That can’t be a co-incidence, right?”

Lou crosses his arms, raises his chin. The cuddly bear is a distant memory: he’s brimming with anger. “There’s no such thing.”

“But that makes no sense.” Junior’s tone reflects the frustration they’re all feeling. “They got the DEA on their tail. Why would they be holding up 7-Eleven then hanging out like they got all the time in the world—”

“Unless…” Lou’s pulling his phone out of his pocket, dialling, putting it to his ear. As he paces away, quietly talking, they stare at each other, confused.

They don’t have to wait long. Lou soon reappears. His expression is grim.

“I just spoke to a friend in SWAT. He’s working with the DEA. The operation tonight, it was a success.”

Danny shifts, impatient. This isn’t helping Steve. “I don’t see what—”

“The operation was moved up.” Lou takes a pace, stops, takes another pace. “They were worried they had a mole inside the operation. The original plan was to hit the compound in Maui three hours later.” He stops, meets Danny’s eyes. “The SWAT teams wouldn’t have left Oahu yet.”

Danny’s eyes widen as he absorbs the information. An idea is forming: he can see Lou is thinking the same thing. “This whole thing is a distraction. They’re trying to draw SWAT in.” It seems fantastical but stranger things have happened since he arrived in Hawaii. And it would explain Jorge’s strange behaviour. 

Tani studies them both, trying to understand. “They’re trying to give the people in the compound time to escape by delaying the SWAT teams?”

Junior huffs, a cold, humourless sound. “They failed.”

Danny scrubs the back of his hand across his face. God, he’s tired. “They’ve still got Julie and Steve.”

Lou bobs his head in understanding. “Which means they don’t know they’ve failed.”

Danny stares at the store front, running through everything again. Based on the timings, they’ve probably only got thirty minutes before Jorge and his boys get really suspicious about the lack of SWAT activity. “Tani. Find Duke. Ask him to check if there have been any other robberies on Oahu tonight. If this really is supposed to be a distraction it’s gotta be bigger than this. Lou, call your friend back and—”

“—make sure they’ve got all communications blocked.” Lou’s already pulling his phone out again. “We don’t want anyone tipping our guys off. I’ll find out how the gang in Maui were planning to make their escape.” He gestures at the store. “There must be an extraction plan for those guys in there.”

Danny watches as Lou walks off, already talking on his phone. Puffing out his cheeks, he breathes out slowly. Then he turns to face to Junior. The knot of worry in the pit of his stomach grows. Junior looks _old._

“Sir. You realise they might not have an extraction plan, that this might be…that this might be a suicide squad? The young men in these gangs would consider it an honour to sacrifice themselves for their brothers.”

Danny looks away, swallowing hard. The thought has crossed his mind. Hearing it out loud feels like being stabbed in the chest. He forces himself to meet Junior’s gaze, to try and reassure him. 

“Steve’s not going to die today,” he promises, quietly. “We won’t let him. I need you up top on that building again. You’re gonna be our eyes. I’ve got an idea how we can end this. But if it goes wrong….” He trails off, licks his lips. He knows he shouldn’t ask this but it’s the way it’s got to be. “If this goes wrong then I need you to kill those bastards. Do you understand?”

There’s a pause. Junior nods. They hold each other’s gaze for a moment. Then Junior turns and disappears into the shadows beyond the blue-glow of the police cruisers.

Danny turns away. If this does go wrong, that will have been the last time he’ll ever see Junes. He sends up a prayer for all of them. Pulling his phone, he brings up his contact list. Scrolling the list to 'G' he starts typing. He’s got a message he needs to send.


	3. Chapter 3

“You came back.”

Jorge’s smirking. Danny reins in the urge to punch his lights out. “I brought your pizza.”

“So I see.” Jorge steps back, waving his men forward.

Danny lets them take the pizza. His body’s thrumming with adrenaline as he lets them pat him down. He has to stop himself from twitching. “It’s good pizza,” he points out as Jorge goes to check his watch. “Don’t let it go cold.”

Jorge freezes. He tilts his head. “You’re very concerned about the pizza.”

Danny shrugs. “Do you know how hard it is to get pizza in the middle of the night?”

Jorge lowers his hand. Glancing round, he watches as his men start opening the pizza boxes. “Apparently you don’t need to worry,” he drawls, looking back at Danny. “I doubt the pizza will go cold.”

“Good.” Danny flicks the corners of his lips up, tries for a weak smile. They’re expecting him to look nervous. It’s not difficult to act that one out. “I need to check the hos--. I need to check on Julie and Steve.”

For a second he thinks Jorge isn’t going to let him. His heart thuds like it’s about to burst out of his chest. If he can’t get to the back of the store where Steve is, this plan isn’t going to work. Then Jorge waves, dismissive, and he’s being pushed down the aisles.

Steve and Julie are where he left them. Backs against the chiller cabinets, their arms resting on their bent knees, they’re clearly uncomfortable. Steve studies him from under his half-lowered lids. He looks furious, worried and curious in equal parts.

Out of the corner of his eye Danny can see the perp who’s been assigned to guard him. In one hand he’s holding his gun. In the other he’s holding a slice. Only half his attention is on Danny: the other half is on his friends who are sharing out the pizza.

_Perfect._

Danny flashes Julie a reassuring smile. Then he crouches down in front of Steve. The first aid kit is where he left it. Pulling it across the floor by the strap, he takes out a fresh dressing. Waving it in front of Steve’s face, he points to his head. “Looks like it was bleeding pretty badly. Let me have a look, huh?”

Gently, he runs his fingers through Steve’s hair line, looking for the source of the blood. Being able to touch Steve, it helps to ground him and clear his mind. Steve gaze is still owlish. But he’s watching every move very carefully. He _knows_ something is going on.

Danny’s grateful they’ve perfected working without communication because the next bit of the plan is the most awkward. A search through the trunk of the Camaro had unearthed a small flick-knife. It’s tiny, the length of his thumb. But the blade is wickedly sharp. He doesn’t want to think about what Steve might have used it for in the past. Today he needs it for a simpler task.

He’s got it taped under the wristband of his watch. Pretending to scratch his wrist, he uses his nail to pry it loose. Lou’s stuck it in there real good: his heart stops when it won’t shift. When it finally pops out he hides it in his curled fingers. Leaning forward to shield Steve from the perp’s sight, he drops the knife into Steve’s tied hands.

Steve doesn’t blink. Danny curses silently, thinking he’s dropped it. Then Steve lightly nudges him in the belly. There’s a tiny click sound and Steve’s hands start moving again.

Danny fiddles with the dressing, tries to make it last as long as possible. Time’s running out though. It’s not long before he hears Jorge approaching. Glancing down, his heart sinks. It looks like Steve’s managed to cut the ropes around his ankles, but his wrists are still secured. There’s no sign of the knife.

“Enough.”

Slowly, Danny gets to his feet. Turning, he keeps himself in front of Steve. 

Jorge stares back at him. For the first time he looks nervous. He brings up his wrist, checks his watch. His frown grows.

_Shit._

Behind him, Danny can feel Steve shifting closer to Julie. He tenses, flexing the arches of his feet. There’s a good chance they’re about to try and fight their way out of here. They’ll have to protect Julie, whatever the cost.

On cue, the sound of a chopper approaching cuts through all the sounds outside. Danny silently cheers as Jorge and his men all look towards the window high up in the wall. Jorge hesitates, glances at his watch again, but several of his men edge towards it, tiptoeing to look out.

Lou had called back his friend in the SWAT team in Maui. They’d confirmed there were three choppers at the compound. Duke had confirmed two other stores had been held up. It was only a hunch but they’d decided to go with it – it was all they had. Finding three choppers in Oahu in the middle of the night, to act as decoys, had proved more difficult. Danny’s holding his breath as the chopper gets closer. Hopefully it’s so dark outside they can’t tell they’re being duped. 

As it happens, he doesn’t need to worry.

The glass in the window explodes into a million pieces. Two of Jorge’s men don’t get to see it: they fall back, bullet holes in the centre of their foreheads. Danny dives for Jorge, tackling him before he can draw his gun. As he goes down, he catches a glimpse of Steve shielding Julie with his body as he pulls her to the floor.

He doesn’t get time to think about that. Jorge’s half-drawn his weapon. Danny grabs his wrist, digs his thumb into the tender skin at the base as hard as he can. When Jorge tries to pull away he applies more pressure, something shifts, cracks, under his hand. The gun skitters across the polished floor.

The fights not over though. As they both scrabble to their feet Jorge takes a defensive stance. It quickly becomes obvious he’s studied martial arts. Danny dodges back as Jorge’s fists strike him in the chest in quick succession. But Danny’s got a few tricks of his own.

He first learnt to box at the Police Academy in New Jersey. His instructor’s mantra was to hit low and to hit hard. He uses what he learnt to his advantage, hitting Jorge where he’s most vulnerable, in the belly and the crotch. And he’s got another advantage Jorge doesn’t have – he’s angry. He’s so, _so _fucking angry.

Jorge stumbles, takes a step backwards. Danny pummels him, making every hit count. Jorge’s still getting through his guard – his ribs hurt like hell – but he’s retreating. As Jorge takes another step backwards, Danny risks a glance over his shoulder. He catches a glimpse of Steve wobbling to his feet, his tied hands raised in front of him as he attacks the final perp. Then Jorge’s on him again and it takes all his concentration to avoid a killer blow.

In the end it’s luck that saves him. Jorge steps back, slips in the milk and juice on the floor. Throwing his hands up to regain his balance, he leaves himself exposed. Danny swings, delivers a huge upper-cut to his chin. Jorge’s head flies back, hits the chiller cabinet behind him. As the glass door shatters around him, Jorge slides to the floor, unconscious.

Danny stares at him. His heart and lungs are pumping so hard they feel like they’re going to explode out of his chest.

Gradually the oxygen returns to his brain.

_Steve. _Danny runs for the last place he saw him. Sliding round the end of an aisle he comes to halt. The fifth perp is lying in the aisle, unconscious. There’s a bright red welt on his neck, across his Adam’s apple. Steve’s sitting beside him. He’s holding his head in his hands.

“Babe.” Danny falls on his knees beside him. Quickly he unties the ropes around Steve’s wrists. “You okay?”

Steve keeps his hands raised. “Hurts,” he whispers, massaging his eyes with his palms. 

Danny hovers, not sure where it’s safe to touch. “Not much longer,” he promises, half-listening to the noises outside. The chopper’s retreating, its job done. They’re going to owe Kamekona a lot of favours for letting them use his chopper.

Julie’s still huddled in the corner. Danny shuffles over on his knees to check she’s okay. He’s talking to her, updating her on Kemi and Jacqui, when the front door bursts inwards. Adrenaline’s still surging through his blood stream. His first reaction is that he needs a gun. He’s about to dive for Jorge’s discarded weapon when two people step through the door.

It’s Tani and Lou. Gun’s raised, they’re both breathing hard. Falling back on his ass, Danny waves at them weakly. He’s never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

H50H50H50

Danny checks his phone. The time is 7am. The window blinds in the hospital room have been half-closed. Outside he can see the pink-hue of the sun rising, signalling the start of another day.

The nurses have found him a comfy recliner chair. Even better, he’s got pillows and a thick, soft blanket. He’s cocooned in it, with just his head and hands poking out. He does a full body-stretch, wiggling everything from his fingers to his toes. He bites back a groan. Jorge’s punches had hit home. An earlier trip to the bathroom had revealed an impressive collection of bruises.

There’s only one bed in the room. Steve’s occupying it but apart from the long, straight lump under the covers it’s difficult to tell it’s him. He’s burrowed under the bed covers. 

Danny yawns, snuggles in lower. Sleep’s beckoning but the nurse is due back shortly to check on Steve. Steve’s tracking better than he was but the concussion is a real doozy. Befuddled by sleep and pain medication there’s no guarantee he’ll remember where he is. 

That’s where he comes in.

He’s the ‘Steve Whisperer’.

Danny snorts at the memory of Lou explaining this concept to the nursing staff. His friend has sounded so earnest, he’d made it sound like an actual job. Tani and Junior had been there too, nodding at everything Lou said. 

He’d huffed in reply, pretending he was long-suffering, that Steve was a danger-magnet that made his life _so_ difficult. The familiar banter had reassured them all at a moment when they were still on edge. But the words had a bitter taste.

It had been too close. Much too close.

Shivering, he tucks further into the blanket. The lump in the bed rises and falls slightly, reassuring him that Steve is still breathing under there. They might joke about it but it _is_ his job to check Steve’s okay, to look after the idiot when he won’t look after himself.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

His phone vibrates, dragging him out of his thoughts. Checking it, he smiles. It’s a message from Grace. She’s responding to the one he sent her before he went back into the store, telling her he loved her.

_You ok Danno?_

The message blurs as he reads it. Rubbing at his eyes with one hand, he texts with the other. _I’m ok monkey._

There’s a pause. Then: _Uncle Steve?_

He swallows hard against the lump in his throat. _He’s ok too_

There’s another pause, shorter this time. _Love you_

_Love you too monkey_

He waits for a while but there’s no reply. His heart aches at the silence. _It’s the way it should be_, he reminds himself. She’ll be getting ready for school now, chatting to her friends on her phone even before she gets there. She shouldn’t be worrying about him. Or Steve.

He puts his phone away again, saving the power for later. Word’s going to get out that Steve was one of the hostages in that hold up. People are going to be calling him, asking if Steve’s okay. Mary, Kahele, Rachel, Mamo, Chin, Kono, Lynn, Ellie. The list is endless.

He checks the bed again. Steve’s still sleeping, oblivious.

_Idiot, _Danny mouths silently. He blinks again, rubbing at his eyes. His heart feels as if it’s being crushed.

He must doze for a while because he doesn’t notice that the door is slowly opening. When he does he jerks round, his finger to his lips. “Keep it down,” he whispers, wincing because he’s jostled the bruises on his ribs.

Lou sticks his head around the door. He raises his eyebrows.

Danny waves him in. “He’s still asleep,” he says, answering Lou’s unspoken question. He pauses, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. “How’s Gary doing?”

Lou stands beside him. He places his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “He’s out of surgery. The doc says it was close but he’s strong, he should make it.”

“Good.” Danny sighs as a knot unfurls in his chest. He glances over at the bed. “Good.”

“You want a coffee or something?”

Danny considers declining but Lou’s in full Dad mode. “Sure,” he replies, simply. There’s no point elaborating. There won’t just be coffee, they’ll be enough food to feed an army too.

He waits for the door to close behind Lou. Then he turns back to the bed to wait; he’s pretty sure Steve’s breathing pattern has changed. 

Eventually the bed covers move. One corner is flipped back and Steve’s head appears. He’s still squinting, despite the lights in the room being dimmed.

Danny leans forwards, gives Steve a minute to orientate himself. “You heard?”

Steve rolls onto his side, burying his head in his pillow. Closing his eyes, he licks lips. “Yeah.”

Danny studies him, reading his expression. “It wasn’t your fault,” he says quietly, determined to cut Steve and his guilt-complex off at the pass. “It was bad luck. Okay, maybe if you hadn’t had a few beers things might have gone differently. But if you hadn’t been out with Gary you wouldn’t have been in the store. Jorge and his buddies still would have been. You stopped them from hurting Kemi and her friends.”

Steve opens one eye. He glares at him. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

Danny raises his eyebrows.

Steve sighs, shifting carefully onto his back. “Okay. It was.”

“They’re keeping Jacqui in for observation,” Danny continues, determined to drive his point home. “The contractions have stopped. That’s another life you helped save, babe.”

Steve’s eyes close again. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He rolls over and tugs at the covers, pulling them up to form a protective canopy over his face. 

Danny sighs. It’s obvious Steve needs more pain medication. He also knows Steve won’t ask. He checks his watch; the nurse is due in a few minutes. He’s more likely to win the argument if he’s got backup. Reluctantly, he sits back in his chair.

Silence falls over them. As always they find comfort in each other’s company, no matter what the situation. 

_We almost lost this._

The thought blindsides Danny. He shivers under his blankets. He closes his eyes, shutting out the room.“You scared the hell out of me,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought…I thought you might not make it.”

“I wasn’t scared.”

Danny’s heart rate flares with anger, making hiss eyes fly open. He hasn’t got the patience for Steve’s flippant approach to his own mortality. “Of course you weren’t. You’re a Navy SEAL with superpowers and--”

“I knew you’d come and get me, Danny.”

Danny drags in air: each breath is suddenly catching in his chest. Steve’s watching him, his eyebrows an intense line of concentration. There’s pain in his eyes but there’s something else there too and Danny knows it’s just for _him. _His heart flips, making it even harder to breathe.

“You’re an idiot, babe,” he manages to squeeze out. “A giant goof who is taking years off my life. You know that, right?”

Steve looks away, shifting nervously under the blankets. Then he looks back, almost shyly. “Love you too.”

Danny stares at him, lost for words. He’s rescued as Steve sticks his hand out from underneath the blankets, wiggling his fingers. He takes the hint, weaving their fingers together. 

Steve squeezes his hand. Gradually his eyes drift closed.

Danny keeps hold. It’s an awkward position to be sitting in. His bruises are making themselves known. But right now, right at this second, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The End


End file.
